


Fly High

by pjsta



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, Kyouhaba Zine 2018, M/M, Muggle Quidditch, Muggle Quidditch AU, the idea took hold of me and wouldn't let me go and this is the result, written for the kyouhaba zine 2018, yep you read right
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-06-16
Packaged: 2019-05-24 02:32:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14945943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pjsta/pseuds/pjsta
Summary: Yahaba and Kyoutani have never gotten along. But now that Yahaba's leading the Seijoh Snidgets, perhaps it's time they did...Written for the Kyouhaba Zine created for Kyouhaba Day 2018!





	Fly High

**Author's Note:**

> The idea to write a muggle quidditch au took hold of me and didn't let go, and... well... here we are...
> 
> This was written for the kyouhaba zine, go check it out! It's a free digital zine created for Kyouhaba day, and is full of wonderful art and over 50k of fic all created by a group of wonderful people. You can find it at https://kyouhabazine.tumblr.com/zine2018
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and happy Kyouhaba day!

 

“ _Reset! Compact! Who’s on point!_ ”

“ _Point!_ ”

“ _Hoops!_ ”

“ _Right wing!_ ”

“ _Left!_ ”

Figures appeared in Shigeru’s periphery, forming the side points that was the small diamond shape of the compact defence. Ahead of them, their opponents, the Karasuno Crows, had regrouped and were heading towards them.

But hold on — their beaters were heading to either side of their defence. Shigeru recognised the move at once.

_Damn it_ , he thought, _when had they learnt to do_ that _?_

“Oikawa-san, they’re pincering!” he called over his shoulder, turning to face the grey haired beater heading for his side. Sugawara, he remembered.

The pincer was a relatively new move, and a fairly simple one. It was the best strategy so far to combat the compact defence that had gained popularity the year before. The beaters of the attacking team would split to either side of the diamond and each take on one of the defending team’s beaters. The defending beaters would be forced to attempt to not only protect the lone bludger they had, but also deflect or catch the opponent’s bludgers _and_ keep an eye on the quaffle, _and_ keep an eye out for the chasers, _and_ keep an eye on their hoops, _as well as_ trying to watch their beater buddy’s back.

It was a clever move, but it only worked when the attacking team had bludger control and didn’t get themselves beat out in the process, two things that Karasuno were unfortunately good at.

_Damn_.

Back to back, Shigeru absently registered the _thunk_ of Oikawa deflecting the bludger on his side. Shigeru fumbled to catch the bludger Sugawara now threw at him, juggling with it until it came to a stop in his hands.

_Safe_.

He smirked.

Sugawara pulled a face, and Shigeru thought that if they didn’t have the rule forbidding them to swear on pitch, he may have done so.

“Kageyama! Lost control, get back!”

Shigeru spun on the spot, searching for the quaffle carrier. Oikawa got there first, and his bludger hit Karasuno’s baldy chaser just as he went to score.

_Beat before._

The chaser yelled out to his teammates for help as he dismounted his broom, but the quaffle was scooped up by Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi sprinted for the other end of the pitch, Oikawa hot on his heels. Shigeru made to follow, but his path was blocked by Sugawara.

Shigeru held onto his bludger as securely as he could against Sugawara’s attempts to knock it out of his hands. He could see Kageyama heading back up the pitch after Oikawa, who didn’t seem to have noticed him. Shigeru wanted to aim his bludger at Kageyama’s back, but long shots were risky at the best of times, even without an opposing beater right there in front of him. There was no _way_ he’d give up bludger control to Karasuno that easily.

Shigeru heard his teammates in the subs box cheer as the whistle blew, and knew that Iwaizumi had scored. He had no idea what the score was anymore, but he was sure they were still within SWIM range. Last he’d looked, they would go to overtime should they catch the snitch, but that had been before he’d subbed on, and he didn’t know how many times either team had scored since.

“Yaha-chan, hold the fort!” Oikawa called. He’d been beat out on his way back down the pitch by Kageyama, and was sprinting back, broom in hand. Sugawara moved to fall back towards where Kageyama was calling for him, but Shigeru followed him a step and tossed his bludger at him. It hit Sugawara square on the back, and he caught it again as it rebounded. Shigeru couldn’t see where the third bludger was; perhaps Kageyama had thrown it back to Karasuno’s hoops, but he had cost Sugawara a precious few extra seconds. It would be harder to pincer them this drive, with Sugawara a few seconds behind.

Karasuno was not known to be a team that slowed down to wait for its beaters. Their usual plan was to attack fast and forcefully, with or without bludger support.

It was honestly _terrifying_.

Seijoh quickly reformed their compact defence. Oikawa left Shigeru on defence and streaked through the gaps to tackle Kageyama to the ground.

A tiny red-headed figure, also new on the Karasuno team this year, darted forwards carrying the quaffle. Shigeru was immediately on guard. The chaser was tiny and his skills weren’t clean, but he was insanely fast, agile, and irritatingly good at getting through their defence. Even if Shigeru planted himself right in front of him, half of his beats missed. And that wasn’t even counting the times that he’d pass to another of his teammates if he came up against a wall. He was especially dangerous whenever he teamed up with Kageyama to power through their defence before they could stop it.

This time, he came up against the wall otherwise known as Matsukawa.

He tried to dodge around, but Shigeru was waiting for him. So instead, he passed to his right, to where Karasuno’s huge chaser with his hair in a bun stood waiting by the hoop. Shigeru shot his bludger at the chaser, and to his relief hit just as he was catching the ball. He scooped up his bludger and turned back to follow the new quaffle carrier, Kunimi.

Out of the corner of his eye, Shigeru saw Oikawa head back to their hoops, broom in hand. Kageyama was doing the same ahead of him, so he assumed that he’d managed to tackle him hard enough for Kageyama to lose his broom. Shigeru kept an eye on the abandoned bludger as he matched Kunimi’s pace up the pitch.

Karasuno had reset their defence fast enough to make Kunimi pause and assess his options. But then a blur of yellow and black whizzed past them, stealing the ball from Kunimi’s grasp, knocking Kunimi over in the process, and thundering through to put the quaffle in the centre hoop.

_Kyoutani Kentarou_.

Kyoutani was the only member of the team that Shigeru couldn’t get along with. Yes, he was a talented player, but time and time again, he’d proved himself to be impatient, reckless, and quite frankly _dangerous_ on pitch. Shigeru was surprised more people hadn’t been hurt whenever he was on pitch, on both teams.

The subs box groaned as the goal was declared no good. Kyoutani had been beat before by Sugawara, and whatever plan Kunimi had been cooking up had been for nothing.

As much as he wanted to scold Kyoutani himself, Iwaizumi got there first, berating him fiercely as they headed back down the pitch to reset as fast as possible. Kunimi immediately subbed off, switching with Kindaichi. It was extremely rare for him to sub when they were on defence, but he seemed to be winded after being knocked down. Subbing now, while not ideal, was probably the best option.

“Yuda-san!” he called over to the subs box, back in position, “Sub in two!”

“Got it!” Yuda called back, and Shigeru pulled his focus back onto the approaching Karasuno.

Shigeru subbed off quickly after that. He leant over the end of his broom, catching his breath as Watari came over to pat him on the back.

“Good work, Yahaba,” he said.

“Thanks,” Shigeru gasped between deep breaths, “Water?”

“Here.”

“Ta.” Shigeru drank gratefully from the bottle he’d been handed. He’d once had reservations about drinking out of a bottle that could have been anyone on the team’s, but he didn’t care about that anymore. “What’s the score?”

“I think it was fifty-forty to Karasuno last I looked. Hands on your head, Yahaba.” Shigeru nodded and complied.

“Time?”

“Good question.” Watari left him to jog over to the time keeper. Shigeru focused back on the match. His breathing was easier now, and he took another swig of the water.

Had anyone told him he’d have joined the local quidditch team while he was at uni, he would have laughed them off. He was a volleyball player, through and through, after all. And quidditch was a sport for _nerds_. But Watari had dragged him along to the taster session, just to see what it was like and to have a bit of fun for a few hours on a Saturday afternoon, and here he was two years later, back at the Miyagi Prefecture Spring tournament.

If they beat Karasuno in this match, they’d get through to the final, which would most likely be against Shiratorizawa Eagles. If they didn’t, they’d be playing for third place. Unfortunately for them, Karasuno were unpredictable at the best of times, especially this year. They had managed to gain five talented players, and as a result were doing unexpectedly well.

“It’s twelve minutes,” Watari told him, returning to his side.

“You good to switch for Oikawa in two minutes?”

“Yep.”

“Ok, you go on for Oikawa, then we’ll put Yuda and Shido on your rotation so you can seek when Oikawa _actually_ runs out of steam for once.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Watari chuckled. They both knew that it was highly unlikely that Oikawa would need a sub; he was one of those annoying players that could go for most of the game without needing a break. But this was a quidditch game, and anything could happen. For all they knew, Oikawa could get injured, and Watari was their next best seeker sub.

Shigeru winced as a tackle from Kyoutani knocked Karasuno’s baldy forcefully to the ground. He’d practically felt that. He could see Kyoutani and the baldy scrapping for possession, but it was passed off to Karasuno’s other tallest player, the one with his hair in a bun. Moments later, a cheer went up from Karasuno’s subs box as they scored. The ball was picked up by Matsukawa, and moments later the whistle blew in the three short blasts that indicated a brooms-down.

The head referee called to the time keeper before turning back to the pitch.

“Score is sixty-forty to Karasuno Crows! Time is thirteen-oh-four! Time out called by the Seijoh Snidgets!” He blew his whistle, and all the players stormed onto the pitch to huddle in their teams. He and Watari handed around the water bottles they’d brought with them as Oikawa started speaking.

“The main thing is not to lose focus. This game is close — we’re only two down. We can easily get this back, so long as we keep our game up and don’t let them force us into a corner.” He accepted the water bottle from Kunimi with a nod and drank. “Don’t try to predict their movements,” he went on, “There’ve been a few times when that’s happened, but this is _Karasuno_ we’re talking about. Their _middle name_ is unpredictable. Keep an eye on the balls, on our teammates, and on where their players are. Keep calm. Don’t let them drag you into a one-on-one competition or they’ll tear us apart. Keep focused. We can still win this. We haven’t got long until snitch on pitch. You all remember our plan for that?” The team nodded, “Yaha-chan, anything you want to add?”

“Play it clean?” Oikawa indicated him to keep going, “It’s been a tricky game so far and sometimes the tackles and play hasn’t been entirely clean, or even safe. If that keeps happening it’s only going to screw us over. Keep it clean and keep it safe. And keep the communication up. It’s mostly pretty good but we can always do better.” Oikawa nodded. He’d been getting Shigeru more and more involved in captain-related things over the last couple of weeks in preparation for when he took over at the end of the season. His attention caught as the head ref called for them to get back to their brooms.

“Let’s go. Watacchi, I’ll be subbing off as soon as I can.”

“Got it.”

Moments later, play recommenced.

 

* * *

 

Kentarou caught the quaffle easily when Hanamaki passed it to him and headed into space, driving forwards as fast as he could. That baldy would likely appear to mark him at any second. They’d been riling each other up every time they’d marked each other for the last few minutes, and he fully expected him to appear again. It was fun getting on his nerves, but the baldy seemed to have an equal talent to irritate him at the same time. Kentarou was already grinding his teeth through his mouthguard in anticipation.

But then, instead of coming face to face with Karasuno’s baldy, he found himself face to face with the tall wall that was the blond, bespectacled chaser. The chaser smirked down at him. A glance around told him that the baldy was a way off, marking Matsukawa. The blond chaser smirked down at him as he blocked his path, arms spread to prevent him from spinning around him.

Kentarou glanced around him to his teammates. Matsukawa obviously wasn’t a safe option. Iwaizumi was being marked by the guy with a bun, and Hanamaki by Karasuno’s captain. The captain, he’d noticed, was especially good at intercepting the ball, so passing that way was out, and the skills of the other two chasers were not to be sneezed at either.

_Where were the beaters?_ Kentarou wondered. He glanced around again, frowning furiously, and realised they were guarding the snitch. He was on his own.

Kentarou tried not to swear.

At least not noticeably.

_Stupid no swearing rule._

He tried ducking under glasses’ arms, but the kid was quick, blocking him no matter which way he turned.

“Kyoutani, left!” came a voice to his side, but Kentarou had already pushed his way forwards, trying to break past with force.

And took a beat to the face for his efforts.

He dropped the quaffle with a growl and ran back to their hoops to tap back in.

He was frustrated. What had the glasses kid been playing at? He should have been able to get through that twig of a wall, no matter how tall he was.

Kentarou glanced around to the side, where he’d suddenly realised he was being yelled at from the subs box.

“Kyoutani! Sub _now_!”

Kentarou scowled, but obeyed, making it clear by the look in his face just what he thought of the demand.

He didn’t bother to high five Kunimi like the rest of his teammates did as Kunimi took off onto the pitch.

He threw his broom to the floor with more force than was necessary, scooping up a bottle for a drink, ignoring the others around him.

It was obviously the wrong thing to do. The moment he’d dropped the bottle on the floor with equal force to his broom, a shove from the side made him stumble.

Kentarou righted himself and spun to face his assailant down with his best death glare.

It was then that he realised it was Yahaba who had pushed him.

_Of course it was_ , he thought to himself. Yahaba was the only one currently in the subs box — one of the only people on the team — who wasn’t afraid to give him a piece of their mind. The other only person was Iwaizumi, who was currently on pitch.

Maybe he should count Oikawa too, even if he never listened.

“You need to calm down,” Yahaba snarled, yanking at the collar of Kentarou’s top.

It was all Kentarou could do to stare in surprise.

He’d never seen Yahaba act this way. Stressy, yes. A pain in his neck, of course. And cross was practically Yahaba’s eternal state of being whenever they were around each other.

But he’d never looked _this_ angry, never got in his face _this_ forcefully.

If he was honest, he didn’t take in half of Yahaba’s speech. He got the general gist of it — he picked up the words ‘team’, ‘trust’ and ‘senpai’, but he was in too much shock to take any more than that in.

Yahaba, the perfect, polite, poised, _model student Yahaba_ had _actually_ gotten right in his face and yelled at him. No one had done that before. Ever. No one had ever even _dared_.

It was only after Yahaba had released him and returned his focus on the game that Kentarou realised that he rather liked this side of Yahaba. There were echoes of it when he played, but he hadn’t seen it up close and personal before.

He was in the subs box for barely a minute longer before he was allowed back on pitch. Yahaba’s intervention had done wonders for his frustration; it was practically nonexistent now. He felt on better form than he had done all game. He even managed to get a goal at the hoops as he, the other chasers, Matsukawa and Yahaba stormed across the pitch, the latter beating out his opponents for him, and the rest of them supporting him. He actually felt like part of the team, for the first time ever.

But it didn’t matter in the end.

They lost.

They didn’t even place _third_.

Their Kesenike match went to double overtime, and Kesenike scored the first hoop.

That had taken everyone by surprise. Seijoh had always been the favourites to win whenever they played Kesenike.

Once they were back on their university campus, Kentarou stayed with the others long enough for the customary post-tournament meal, but didn’t hang around for much longer after that. He didn’t particularly feel like being around people anymore, and he wanted to get home.

“Kyoutani, wait!”

Kentarou spun on his heel at the call. Yahaba was hurrying to catch up with him. _What did he want now?_ To yell at him again?

“What?” he grumbled. He turned back and walked quicker, but Yahaba caught up to him.

“I thought we could walk together?” Yahaba suggested, “You head the same way as me, don’t you?” Kentarou glared at him, but eventually shrugged. Maybe he’d get lucky and Yahaba would be quiet.

He wasn’t quiet.

Kentarou really wasn’t in the mood for this. He tried to lose his noisy tail, but to his annoyance, Yahaba kept pace with him easily, and Kentarou resigned himself to his fate.

That day obviously hated him, and here was the final proof.

In all honesty, it could have been worse. Yahaba was mostly talking about the tournament, so he counted himself lucky that he wasn’t stuck listening to gossip that he had no interest in whatsoever.

“Did you see the tiny puppy?” It was the first sentence Yahaba had said so far that really stood out to him. Kentarou scoffed, scowling.

Of _course_ he’d seen the adorable tiny puppy. And _of course_ he’d gone to say hello — not that he’d tell anyone on the team about it. He was the ‘mad dog’ to them, thanks to Oikawa.

He suspected that Yahaba was waiting for an answer, so he gave a short nod, and got rewarded with Yahaba gushing over the puppy excitedly for a while. Kentarou almost wanted to smile at it, then frowned to himself.

Why did he want to think of Yahaba’s rambling as ‘sweet’? Yahaba had _never_ been sweet, not in all the time he’d known him.

They came to a stop outside Kentarou’s halls building.

“Bye, Yahaba,” Kentarou said.

“Wait!” Yahaba almost looked… nervous? Kentarou was surprised. He really was seeing whole different sides to him.

“Kyoutani, I…” he tried, then broke off. Kentarou had a feeling that whatever Yahaba was trying to say was the real reason Yahaba had wanted to walk back with him.

He raised his eyebrows at him.

_Well?_

“You… you played well today.”

“We lost.”

“We lost,” Yahaba agreed, “It happens. But we did better than we would have done had you not pulled yourself back together again. You did the senpai, and the team proud, so… good work. I’ll… see you around.”

Kentarou nodded once, and watched Yahaba’s figure disappear into the night.

_What was that all about?_ he wondered to himself as he headed up to his rooms. Was he trying to make up for earlier? Why would he feel the need to do that? It had worked, hadn’t it? He shrugged it off, letting himself in.

Whatever was going through Yahaba’s head was of no concern of his.

Apparently Kentarou’s opinion of Yahaba’s rambling _was_ his concern though, and he couldn’t get it out of his head when he was trying to get to sleep. It had been… cute?

Kentarou rolled over, groaning.

He was way too tired for this; quidditch tournaments were exhausting.

He’d try to ignore it until morning, at least then he might be awake enough to try to figure out what he was thinking.

 

* * *

 

Kentarou was surprised to be invited to join Yahaba and Watari outside of training and their courses, and was even more surprised when he _kept_ being invited to join them until the end of the academic year. At first he thought it was training-related, but when it became evident that it was a socialisation thing, he became somewhat suspicious.

Yahaba had never liked him much, so what was he playing at? Perhaps Watari was trying to get them to play nice ready for next year? There would be no senpai to act as a buffer between the two of them then. As the weeks went by and Yahaba seemed to expect him to be around more and more, however, Kentarou began to think that maybe there was another explanation for Yahaba’s sudden inclusion, though what it was, he had no idea.

Kentarou was certain that it was going to end in flames.

He and Yahaba still fought, and fought a _lot_. So far it hadn’t progressed to a point that Watari had to physically force them apart, but Kentarou figured it was only a matter of time. Their fights were explosive, and Yahaba had never liked him much before, so why would it be any different even now?

As time went on, however, he found himself enjoying spending time with the two of them. Before he knew it, he seemed to be included on both Watari and Yahaba’s friends lists. They met up around campus and had lunch together, went into town to get new studs when his and Watari’s both fell apart. They even went for a picnic once, on the nicest day of the year so far, and Yahaba was making noise about an end of year sleepover before they went home for the March holidays.

That was when Yahaba dropped his bombshell.

“I want you to be my vice captain next year.”

_What._

Kentarou twisted around on his futon to look at him, alarmed.

_What._

Vice captain?

_Him?_

_Why?_

Yahaba translated the look on his face as easily as though he’d been doing it for years.

“I think you’d be a good vice,” he shrugged, “You’ve got a good understanding of the game, you can think on your feet, and you’re good at the sport. You can keep an eye on the main game while Watari and I are on snitch.”

“But the team hates me.”

“No, they don’t. They might be scared of you, sure, but they respect your strength. Besides, they won’t be so scared of you when they realise how much of a puppy you really are,” he teased, scratching Kentarou’s head. Kentarou tried not to melt into the scratch and glared at Yahaba instead.

“’M not a puppy,” he grumbled sourly.

“Sure you aren’t. But you’ll do it?” Kentarou glared at him again. Yahaba gave him his most winning smile, the one that had been having a nasty habit of tying Kentarou’s stomach in knots.

“Why not Watari?” he asked, “He’s your best friend, and he’s good too.”

“Yes, but I need someone who’ll not be distracted when snitch is on pitch. Watari’s our first-string seeker next year, and I’ll be needing him to focus on that. And from what you have said about the team, you’ve got a pretty good head for figuring out what people’s strengths and weaknesses are.”

“But—”

“We can figure out the people side of things later,” Yahaba said, “You won’t be left to deal with it on your own again. Kyoutani, please?” He gave his best pleading look.

Kentarou glared at him again, just because of the face.

“Whatever,” he grumbled at last, “Fine.”

The grin Yahaba gave him could have powered the sun.

 

* * *

 

The first training session of the season _never_ started on time. There were old teammates to welcome back, and potential new players to meet.

Shigeru surveyed the group. They had a good number of freshers this year, but he’d be surprised if they still had ten of them in a month’s time.

As sad a truth as it was, quidditch was an acquired sport. Few people were serious enough about it to continue it beyond a bit of fun as a taster session. Those that did gave as good as they’d got to the sport, the quidditch community and the team.

He checked the time on his phone. It was almost ten past. Shigeru debated waiting a bit longer for any latecomers, but decided against it in the end. He didn’t want to delay for too long, or they wouldn’t get through all he wanted to. Any latecomers would just have to catch up when they got there.

“Alright, let’s get started,” he told Watari, then called out to the surrounding group, “Hello, everyone! I’m Yahaba Shigeru, and I’m the captain of the Seijoh Snidgets. This is Watari Shinji, our secretary,” he indicated Watari, “And over there is our vice-captain, Kyoutani Kentarou.” He pointed briefly at Kyoutani, who glared around at everyone in the typical people-shy Kyoutani fashion.

“We’re going to start with a quick warm up,” Shigeru went on, drawing the attention back to himself, “and then run a few introductory drills to get to know everyone and introduce what we actually do. Any questions, feel free to ask anyone in kit. They don’t bite. Usually.” He allowed himself a smirk, before getting everyone to their feet and starting the warm up. A series of jogs, side steps, grape vines, lunges, heel flicks, high knees, hip-loosening exercises and static stretches later, and Shigeru introduced them to the balls they used.

“Hands up: who’s familiar with the Harry Potter version of quidditch?” Most of the freshers raised their hands. Shigeru wasn’t surprised. Most quidditch freshers were hardcore Potterheads. It was how over half the quidditch community had gotten into the sport in the first place.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re not,” Shigeru said, as some of those who hadn’t raised their hands began to look discouraged, “It just gives the others a little head start on the basics. In quidditch there are three types of balls.” He picked up the quaffle.

“This is called the quaffle. It’s really just a slightly deflated volleyball, but we call it the quaffle. When the quaffle is put through one of the three hoops at either end of the pitch, the attacking team wins ten points.” He set the quaffle down, and picked up a bludger. “These dodgeballs are the bludgers. If you get hit by one, you have to get off your broom, run back to your hoops, tap them, and _then_ you can get back on your broom and rejoin the game.” He set the bludger down and picked up the snitch.

“This is called the snitch. It’s a tennis ball in a yellow sock that’s either attached to or has one end stuffed down the back of the snitch runner’s shorts. If you catch it, you win thirty points and end the game.”

“Isn’t it one hundred and fifty points?” a girl asked, “That’s what it is in the books.” Shigeru shook his head. There was always _someone_ who asked that.

“Just thirty,” he replied, “One hundred and fifty is too much of a game changer.”

Shigeru set them all up in a circle, throwing the quaffle to each other and calling out their names as they did so, before they threw the ball across the circle, calling out the name of the person they were aiming for. It was a simple drill, but it helped to learn names. As time went on, Shigeru added their second quaffle, and one of their bludgers, to the drill. Then he split the group into two. One half went to learn the chaser side with Kyoutani, Kindaichi and Kunimi, while the others went with Shigeru and Watari.

Shigeru took them through the rules of being a beater, explaining their role on pitch. They got the brooms — a set of plastic poles with covered ends — out of the kit bag and set up a few rounds of beater battles, a drill in which the players aim to beat out the other player. A few beater drills later and the two groups swapped.

All in all, Shigeru thought later, the session had gone rather well. They’d had a good number of freshers, and had had a large enough group to be able to run a non-contact scrimmage with _so many subs_ that even if he hadn’t been refereeing, Shigeru thought he may not have gotten on pitch at all. They’d even managed to end with a few rounds of snitch hunger games, which he’d thought they may not have had time for.

He’d been more nervous about the first training session than he cared to admit. Oikawa’s shoes were big ones to fill, and Shigeru had been worrying that he’d not be able to carry the team as well as Oikawa had. He was still worrying about it, if he was honest with himself. He wasn’t as charismatic or as sure of himself as Oikawa, and his technique still wasn’t as good. Watari was always telling him not to worry about it, that he was plenty good enough for the role and the team, but he still worried.

One thing he wasn’t worried about, however, was his choice of making Kyoutani his vice captain.

Everything he’d told Kyoutani last March had been true. Kyoutani had a good understanding of the game, and an extremely high athletic ability. He was able to think up tactics on the fly and carry them out, and even his bad relationship with the team had been improving. The others weren’t as afraid of him as they had once been, and he wasn’t as closed off as he’d been last year — something for which Shigeru wanted to take full credit.

He’d realised it in the Karasuno match. Kyoutani had always been a closed-off person, but the look on his face when he, the chasers, Matsukawa and Kyoutani had worked together to break through the Crows’ defence had told him that it was the first time that Kyoutani had truly felt like he was a member of the team. Shigeru had been trying to rectify this ever since: inviting him out with he and Watari, including him more in conversation, trying to make him feel wanted. He had just hoped that the end of year break and the influx of freshers didn’t reverse the progress they’d made.

So far, to his relief, that fear had seemed to be unfounded. Kyoutani stuck closer to his and Watari’s sides than he had done at the end of last year, but Shigeru preferred him there than distanced, as he’d been before. It meant he trusted him to know he was feeling shy, and Shigeru wouldn’t give that knowledge up for _anything_.

 

* * *

 

Everything began to settle down over the next few weeks. Shigeru’s course had started off slowly this year, but was steadily increasing the workload bit by bit. Shigeru continued to hang out with Kyoutani and Watari, and was delighted when Kyoutani asked to hang out of his own accord for the first time. They were even spending more and more time in twos, be it he and Kyoutani, he and Watari, or Watari and Kyoutani.

They had five freshers who had been interested enough to stay beyond the taster sessions, and they were integrating well into the team. Kyoutani was doing well as vice captain, and he and Shigeru spent hours discussing the team and what they could do to improve. They even won their first practice match against the new version of Kesenike. The satisfaction Shigeru felt to have led the team to a victory over the team who’d beaten them out of third place last February was so strong that he’d grinned non-stop for weeks. He didn’t even stop grinning when Kyoutani complained that it made him look weird.

The first tournament of the year always came sooner than he expected, and Shigeru tried not to let it bother him. He felt underprepared, no matter how many times Watari tried to convince him otherwise.

It was Kyoutani who managed to shake him out of it.

They left the usual post-training session together, having already agreed that Kyoutani was staying over at his that night for a team tactics and strategies meeting, and once they’d set up Kyoutani’s futon, they poured over their extensive notes, Shigeru’s laptop ready to search for videos of previous games. They’d been going for ten minutes when Kyoutani stopped them.

“You’re actually worried about this.” It wasn’t a question. “I knew you were nervous. This is our first tournament with the new team, I’d be more concerned if you weren’t. But this is something different.”

“Yeah.” There was no point in denying it.

“What is it? Why are you so worried?”

“I feel underprepared,” he admitted, “I feel like I should have done more.”

“How?” Kyoutani asked, “We’ve covered rules, defences, basic attacks, the pincer. We’ve even covered what it means by Snitch When It Matters range, what happens during the overtimes, and the snitching times. We’ve got our sub rotations all but finalised. We’ve just got this weekend to finish finalising our starting tactics, and we’ll be ready. Besides, it’s the first tournament of the year. _None_ of the teams will be performing their best, they’ll _all_ have freshers who’ve only been playing for two months. What’s there to be so worried about?”

Shigeru thought hard for a few minutes. He knew that, in theory, Kyoutani was right. They’d done all they could to prepare their freshers. So what was it?

“I think…” he started slowly, “I think… I’m worried that we’ll fail, I guess. We lost so many good players last year — Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, Matsukawa, Yuda, Shido, Sawauchi. I think I’m worried that we won’t do as well as we did last year. If we don’t do well at this tournament, we won’t get back to Northern. We won’t have a chance at going to Nationals.”

“You think you’ll have failed as our captain?” Shigeru nodded.

“Something like that.”

“Not going to happen.”

“What?”

“’S not going to happen. We’ve covered everything we’ve had time for with the freshers, and the team is strong. We always have been. We can do this. We’re gonna go to this tournament next weekend and tell everyone ‘we are Seijoh Snidgets and we’re going to run all of you into the ground and win this thing’, or whatever it is you said this afternoon. And we’re gonna beat Kesenike in an actual match, and we’re gonna beat the new Karasuno, and we’re gonna beat the new Shiratorizawa and get to Northern, and beat everyone there and go to Nationals. We got this, Yahaba. You’re not going to fail us.”

Shigeru was grinning by the time Kyoutani finished his speech. He was right. He could put his confidence in the team, and they weren’t going to let him down. They could do this.

In the end, only part of Kyoutani’s prediction came true.

They never played against Kesenike — Karasuno knocked them out of the competition while they flattened Johzenji. They _did_ then beat Karasuno for a spot in the finals, but it was incredibly close. Yahaba was all too aware that had Watari not caught the snitch when he did, the match could have easily gone to the Crows.

They then lost to Shiratorizawa, but by that point, they were battered and bruised and exhausted, and to be perfectly honest, Shigeru was happy to settle with a silver and the promise of going to Northern and getting another chance at going to Nationals.

What’s more, while they were at the customary post-tournament team meal, he got a message from Oikawa to congratulate them on the silver. It seemed that their former teammates had gathered to watch the live streams of the weekend. He hadn’t been able to keep from feeling relieved at that. He honestly tried not to compare himself to Oikawa, and he was getting better at it, but it was still a great weight off of his shoulders to hear that his former captain was proud of them.

And if his own pride grew when he saw the pride on Kyoutani’s face, then so what? They deserved it.

He steadfastly ignored the blush that came with it.

 

* * *

 

“Hey, Kyoutani,” Yahaba greeted as Kentarou let him in. They were a weekend into the new year, and Yahaba had insisted on them having a ‘welcome back/happy new year’ sleepover. They were at Kentarou’s this time. He’d moved into his own flat at the end of last year, and they had more space and freedom there than they had at Yahaba’s and Watari’s, so it had become their go-to sleepover location.

“Where’s Watari?” Kentarou asked now, taking Yahaba’s sleeping bag for him.

“Watari said he’d be along in a bit. Apparently he had to stay longer than he’d expected for his presentations this afternoon, and he wants to drop all his uni stuff off at home before he comes over.” Kentarou nodded. Watari had been stressing about his presentation since before Christmas, so it made sense that he’d want to have a breather at home between that and their sleepover. Kentarou wouldn’t have agreed to the sleepover at all, had it been him.

They set the futon up for Yahaba, before retreating into the kitchen. Kentarou had stocked up on food and snacks ready for the night. The first time they’d stayed at his, they had completely eat him out of food, and Kentarou hadn’t taken the chance of them doing so again ever since.

They talked about their respective New Year celebrations at home while they waited for Watari to arrive. They’d both gone back to their families homes, and Yahaba regaled him with tales of his siblings in exchange for Kentarou’s tales about his neighbour’s dog.

An hour later, and Watari still hadn’t shown.

“Isn’t he supposed to be here by now?” Kentarou asked.

“He should be, yeah,” Yahaba frowned, checking the time, “He said they’d be done by four, and it should only take an hour for him to get home, have a turn-around and get here.”

“Should we try calling him?” Kentarou suggested. Yahaba shrugged at his suggestion, and pulled out his phone. He tapped the screen, and put the phone to his ear.

“Voicemail,” he said eventually, then tried again. That too, went to voicemail, so Yahaba left a “hey, are you on your way yet?” message. They decided to try again later. Perhaps he had been held up and couldn’t pick up his phone?

“I’m going to start making dinner,” Kentarou said at last, “’M hungry. We can leave a portion for when Watari gets here.”

Kentarou had long since learnt that Yahaba got fidgety if he wasn’t allowed to help out, so he set him to chopping vegetables as he prepared the chicken pieces.

They were just sitting down to eat at nine when Yahaba’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen, then set it on the table, on speakerphone.

“Hey, Watari, where are you?”

“ _I’m so sorry, guys,_ ” he said, “ _I got back and just fell asleep, I was so exhausted after this afternoon. I’ve literally just woken up._ ” It sounded like it. His voice was almost slurring with tiredness.

“Aw, Watari,” Yahaba seemed to be torn between a snort and a groan.

“ _I know, I know, I’m sorry,_ ” Watari said.

“Are you not coming then?” Yahaba asked.

“ _Honestly, I think I’m about to fall asleep again, so I’m going to go have food and go back to bed, sorry._ ”

“Aw, ok, Watari,” Yahaba said, “Did your presentation go alright at least?”

“ _Yeah, I think so. They seemed pretty positive in the feedback at the end, so hopefully?_ ”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah,” Kentarou agreed, “Well done, Watari.”

“ _Thanks, guys. I’m going to go now. Sorry I fell asleep._ ” Yahaba chuckled.

“Go on, night Watari.”

“ _Night. See you guys at training tomorrow._ ”

“See you tomorrow,” Yahaba agreed.

“Bye, Watari,” Kentarou said, and Yahaba hung up. A second later, he was laughing.

“He fell asleep!” he chuckled gleefully, “I am _never_ letting him forget this.”

Kentarou gave his smirk back, trying not to stare too long at the crinkles around Yahaba’s eyes as he laughed.

“In that case, you want any more food?” He asked instead, taking their plates back to the kitchen counter. He divided Watari’s portion up between them, and turned with surprise at a squeak Yahaba let out. Kentarou frowned at him.

_What was that about?_ Yahaba translated his face easily, and shook his head.

“Just a message from Watari,” he said, his face suspiciously pink, “It’s nothing.” Kentarou raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

_If you’re sure_.

They sat down again to eat, and Kentarou checked his own phone.

_Since I’m not going to be there, maybe you can put the alone time to good use and ask him out already ;) Watari_

Now it was his own turn to try to not blush. Kentarou set his phone down, face down on the table. He should have suspected Watari would do something like this. He’d been missing more and more of their meet-ups recently, and when Kentarou had asked him about it, he’d gone all sly and said something about _‘alone time’_ and ‘ _maybe you two can stop dancing around each other and tell each other how you feel_ ’.

Kentarou most decidedly had _not_ done that.

As if Yahaba could possibly return whatever _feelings_ he may or may not have. Watari was surely _mad_.

Once they’d finished their meal, they cleaned up the dishes, and headed back to Kentarou’s bedroom, each with a bowl of snacks in hand.

They talked over whatever film Yahaba had picked out, or rather, Yahaba talked over it. Kentarou was tired, so most of his responses were short-worded or non-verbal. Besides, Yahaba did enough talking for the both of them.

About half way through, though, Yahaba went quiet. Kentarou chanced a glance over at him. He glanced away again, cheeks burning, when he realised that Yahaba was watching his face.

“What?” he grumbled.

“Nothing,” Yahaba said quickly, and launched into a ramble about something amusing his little sister had done over New Year.

Kentarou chanced another glance at him. Yahaba was looking anywhere _but_ at him, which told Kentarou that he was embarrassed to have been caught staring at him, for whatever reason.

When his ramble was over, he went quiet again, and Kentarou felt as though he were being watched. For the first time, he wondered what it was that Watari had said to him in the message that had made him squeak earlier. Had it been similar to the one he’d sent him? Why had Yahaba _squeaked_ when he read it?

“Kyoutani —”

“Yahaba —” they started speaking at the same time, and stopped.

“You first,” Yahaba said.

“Nah, you.” He didn’t really know what he would have said, anyway.

Yahaba hesitated.

“Did… did Watari say anything to you?” he asked.

“About what?”

“About… about us two. You and me. Did he say anything?”

“Depends,” Kentarou said carefully, “Did he say anything to you?”

“Yeah.”

“Then yeah, he did.” Yahaba seemed to struggle with words. It was a new sensation for Kentarou. He’d never seen Yahaba unsure of what to say before. Even when yelling at him in the middle of one of their fights, Yahaba had not once run out of words.

Kentarou shuffled around in his place until he was at the right height and cautiously rested his head against Yahaba’s shoulder, hoping against hope that he wasn’t about to get thrown off again. Yahaba sagged with what Kentarou hoped was relief beside him, and an arm twisted around to hold him there.

“Maybe… maybe sometimes… you can call me Shigeru, instead of Yahaba,” Yahaba — _Shigeru_ murmured. Kentarou had never heard him sound so nervous before.

“Kentarou,” he said. He felt Yahaba — _Shigeru_ — nod against his head, and settled himself more comfortably against Yaha — _Shigeru’s_ shoulder, knowing he wasn’t going to be pushed away.

They spent the next few minutes in silence, until Shigeru felt obviously felt comfortable enough to start up his running commentary again. Kentarou smiled to himself. It wasn’t exactly what Watari had said to do, but it was a start.

 

* * *

 

“ _Kuroishi Centaurs, are you ready?_ ”

A cheer came from the other end of the pitch.

“ _Seijoh Snidgets, are you ready?_ ”

Kentarou and the others on his team yelled, though it wasn’t so much of a ’yes’ than it was a wordless shout.

“ _Brooms down! Play commences upon my mark_.” Then the referee yelled, “ _Brooms up!_ ”

Kentarou surged forwards as fast as he could, pulling his broom up into position, desperate to reach the quaffle first.

Unfortunately, the tall Kuroishi keeper got there first. The moment the keeper straightened up, Kentarou tackled him. The keeper was obviously steady on his feet though, as the most he could do in his current position was stop him from moving forwards. He had no idea if they had bludger control, or where anyone else was.

Then he felt a bludger bounce off of his back.

He released his tackle, and ran back to their hoops, broom in hand, yelling it out to his teammates. He touched the hoop and turned back, remounting his broom.

From his new position at the hoops, he could figure out who and where everyone was. The others on his team had settled into compact while he’d been tackling, and Kindaichi stood at point, looking moments away from tackling. One of Kuroishi’s chasers was running down the side of the pitch to troll, and Kentarou called it out. He followed the player to mark them, careful not to stray too far from the hoops. They didn’t have bludger control, but Shigeru was already out and harassing the closest Kuroishi beater. Just as Kentarou was looking away again to watch the quaffle, he saw him going in for a tackle and smirked.

That beater was a _twig_ , and they wouldn’t stand a chance against his Shigeru.

The quaffle was soaring over the hoops to the troll, and Kyoutani wrestled it out of their loose grasp. He quickly scanned around. Kunimi, on the left was open.

“Kunimi!” he called, and passed it over. Kunimi caught it lazily, and headed down the pitch, wriggling his way through the opponent’s chasers. Kindaichi ran after him, as did Hashimoto, who’d been one of their freshers that year.

Kentarou followed to a few feet away from the halfway line, but didn’t cross it. He was the reset option, and didn’t want to get too far away from the hoops.

“Kyoutani-san, reset!” came Kindaichi’s voice. Kentarou was already on it. He tackled straight into the Kuroishi chaser, and they both went straight down into the mud.

_Ugh. Who decided that we had to have a white kit?_ Kentarou thought, not for the first time. Not that his kit was particularly white any more. It had long since been permanently stained brown by the mud, but he thought it every time it got muddied yet again.

He scrambled for possession of the quaffle, legs squeezed tightly together to keep his broom in place, and suddenly Shigeru appeared to beat the chaser out. They let go of the quaffle, and Kentarou scooped it up, passing it back to Hashimoto, who passed to Kindaichi just before she got tackled. Kentarou lost sight of it as he clambered back onto his feet. He took a few steps back towards his hoops and surveyed the scene. A cheer from their subs box and the blow of the referee’s whistle told him that someone on his team had just scored, so he headed back to form their defence.

“Point!” he called out.

“Left!” Kunimi said, falling into place.

“Hoops!” Kindaichi, who was off his broom was sprinting back down to the hoops.

“Right!” Hashimoto called, and took her place.

“Watari, pincer!” Kentarou heard Shigeru yell. He hadn’t realised they’d lost control again. It must have happened during the confusion of his tackle.

 True to Shigeru’s word, Kuroishi’s beaters were heading to each side. Kentarou ignored them for now. If they were pincering, then it was unlikely that they’d try and beat any of his chasers or Kindaichi out yet. They were usually second beating priority in the pincer.

The tall keeper had possession of the quaffle again.

_Time to try a different tackle_ , Kentarou thought.

This time, he pulled the keeper’s weight towards himself, using the keeper’s height and body weight against him.

It worked, and moments later, they were on the floor.

He swiped the quaffle out of the keeper’s grasp, and tossed it towards Hashimoto again, before detangling himself from the keeper and pulling himself up again.

He ran after Hashimoto, and caught the quaffle when she passed it his way, having run into a stocky chaser on the other team.

A beat from Shigeru cleared the path in front of him, and he put the ball right through the middle of the right hand hoop.

“Nice pass, Hashimoto,” he said, patting her arm as they ran back down the pitch,

“I call right!” he called, heading into position. Kindaichi had taken the hoops again, and Kunimi point, and he and Hashimoto slipped into position on each of the other points of their compact diamond.

“Kyoutani!” Shigeru called, heading back towards them, bludger in hand, “behind you!” Kentarou spun around at his warning, but wasn’t able to avoid the beat that hit his arm.

“I’m out! Kindaichi!” Kindaichi was already surging forwards to take his place, and Hashimoto hurried to take Kunimi’s as the sneaky Kuroishi beater took out him too.

_That was a sly tactic_ , Kentarou thought. Sly, but effective. They hadn’t seen it coming, and the stocky Kuroishi chaser had put the ball through a hoop in the confusion.

_Twenty-ten. We can still work with this._

The game continued in this way for a while. Neither team could quite get ahead before the other clawed their way back into SWIM range.

Kuroishi called for a time out first, nine and a half minutes into the game. Kentarou was subbed off at the time, and stood watching the game, his hands on his head to ease his breathing. He stormed onto the pitch when the whistle blew, taking as many bottles of water with him as he could fit in his hands.

“We’re not doing badly,” Shigeru assured them, taking a swig from one of the bottles. It was his second time on pitch so far. “We’re all tired, and we went into this knowing that Kuroishi have been doing well this weekend. But we need to stay focused. Their beaters have snuck up on our defence quite a few times, now, and it’s just opening spaces for their chasers and their keepers to get through. We need to make sure we’re paying attention to our surroundings, and look out for each other’s backs as well. Keep your ears to the ground and your eyes peeled. Don’t let them get one up on us just because they keep sneaking up on us. We’re only ten down right now, we can bring this back. Just keep aware of your surroundings. Kyoutani?”

“What he said. And communicate. I can’t hear anyone, especially the beaters.” He exchanged a look with Shigeru. Shigeru nodded once. “And keep an eye out for their weaknesses. That keeper won’t go down unless you pull them forwards. Half of their chasers the wind could blow through, but they’re tactically sound, so look out. And try arm-tackling that stocky chaser. I think that’ll disrupt his centre of gravity better.”

Despite the time out, the next leg of the game didn’t go to plan. Kuroishi had obviously rallied during the time out, and had returned to pitch more determined than before. Shigeru had Kindaichi call for time out barely two minutes later. They’d fallen out of SWIM range; the score now fifty-ninety to Kuroishi.

“We’re at eleven minutes. Chasers, keepers, keep that communication up, keep it together. It’s nearly there. Beaters, don’t be afraid to make the beats. Get close and wreck havoc in their defence and attacks. Remember to _avoid_ the long-distance beats where possible, then you’re not having to go chasing after the bludgers. When snitch comes on pitch, I’ll need you to pull together more. Beaters, you need to bubble that snitch. Don’t let the other seeker and beaters close. Protect the seeker. Seekers, we’ll be on defensive until we can win with your thirty points, so keep an eye on the scoreboard. Seeing how this game’s gone so far, it could change any minute.”

He glanced towards the centre of the pitch as the head referee called for the players to return to their brooms and wrinkled his nose.

“You need to go back on. Kimura, I’m ready to sub whenever you need.” The small beater nodded their understanding, and the huddle broke up.

“Kyoutani, one second.” Kentarou turned back to him.

_Yeah?_

“I need you to keep an eye on SWIM range for me. Let me know when something changes, especially when I’m on pitch. You know I lose track.” Kentarou nodded.

“Got it. We can do this, Shigeru.”

“Go on.” Shigeru touched his arm gently, “Go score some hoops for me.”

Kentarou smirked.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

 Things went a better after that. Kentarou scored a goal that brought them back into Snitch When It Matters range, and a no bludgers situation in which nearly all of Kuroishi’s chasers and keeper were at their end of the pitch or in the process of subbing off gave Kunimi practically free range of Kuroishi’s hoops.

_Seventy-ninety_.

And then the snitch and seekers came on pitch.

The beaters of both sides practically abandoned the quaffle game, and they were left to thrash it out with Kuroishi’s keeper and chasers on their own. Gameplay was paused when one of the Kuroishi players got injured, although thankfully it wasn’t anyone’s fault.

The score kept swinging one way and another: one hundred-ninety to Seijoh, then one hundred-one hundred and ten to Kuroishi, then one hundred and forty-one hundred and ten to Seijoh.

True to his word, Kentarou relayed this to Shigeru whenever he could.

Five minutes after snitch on pitch, Kentarou caught the quaffle from Ujie’s pass and _thump_.

Kentarou acted instinctively, and turtled the ball against the tall Kuroishi keeper.

“Yahaba! A little help here!” Kentarou yelled over his shoulder. He clung desperately onto the quaffle. He knew that Shigeru was sitting on the snitch now, but if they could get another goal and retain the points difference it created, they’d be out of SWIM.

“Beat, Kuroishi keeper!” came the referee’s call, and Kentarou took the opportunity immediately. He couldn’t score from his position, and a chaser was already coming to take the keeper’s place. But Kindaichi wasn’t far away, and Kunimi was in a better position to give him support.

“Kindaichi!” he called, tossing the ball his way. Kindaichi caught it, and sped up the pitch. Kentarou followed, shaking off his new marker and heading to open space to act as support or back up. Kindaichi got tackled by a tiny chaser about half his size, but he passed the quaffle safely off to Kunimi, who flung it through the shortest hoop with his usual unconcerned air.

“Back! Reset! I call left wing!”

The three of them headed straight back down, only to be brought up short by the three blasts of the referee’s whistle. Kentarou lurched to a stop, resting the end of his broom on the floor as the others around him did the same. He glanced around, curiously, wondering what the call was for, and spotted Watari on his back in the mud, breathing hard, the yellow sock of the snitch in his hand.

_Please, please, please_ , Kentarou found himself thinking, switching his gaze to the referees. It had been a difficult game, and he _really_ wished it could be over before Kuroishi had the chance to claw back the goals to even the scores. He could practically feel the entire pitch and all of the spectators watching the referees’ discussion with bated breath. Then the head referee turned back to the pitch.

“Catch is good!” Whatever he said next was lost to Kentarou, as he and the entire Seijoh team yelled and swarmed Watari. Kentarou almost worried that they were going to squash his friend, but as he’d been standing by the time the team pounced on him, he figured he’d be fine.

As the team broke off from Watari, Kentarou heard Shigeru’s voice leading them through the customary three cheers for Kuroishi.

The next few minutes were the usual blur of faces and bodies, as they formed the lines to greet the other players.

As soon as they were free, Kentarou sought out Shigeru. He didn’t have to look for long. They grinned madly at each other, and Shigeru pulled him into a tight hug.

_They had done it!_

It may not have been a gold medal, or even a silver, but a bronze was a medal, and they were through to _Nationals_.

In his excitement, Kentarou pulled Shigeru in for a kiss. It was fast, and he didn’t register he’d done it until he’d pulled away.

They hadn’t kissed before, in whatever this was.

His cheeks burned, but to his relief, Shigeru grinned wider still and pulled him in for another.

 

* * *

 

The next hour was a blur. There was the medals ceremony, then photos, then the clean-up, then suddenly they were on the train back home.

He must have been more exhausted than he’d realised, as he woke to find his head on Shigeru’s shoulder and fingers running gently through his short hair. Watari was smirking in his seat across the aisle.

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” he teased. Kentarou grunted. Still half asleep, he tightened his arm around Shigeru’s middle and nuzzled into Shigeru’s shoulder.

“Where’re we?” he grumbled.

“We’re still half an hour away,” Shigeru replied, “You can go back to sleep again, if you want.” Kentarou shook his head.

_Nah_. He sat up and stretched, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Well done today,” Shigeru said quietly, taking his hand, “You were amazing.” Kentarou grunted at the compliment like usual, but squeezed Shigeru’s hand.

_Thanks. You too._

“We’re going to _Nationals_ ,” he said. It was still sinking in, if he was honest. “And we got _bronze_ at _Northern_.” He fidgeted with the medal around his neck.

“We did,” Shigeru said, then released his hand to pull out his phone, “Look at this.”

The old team group chat had been spammed with messages from their old teammates throughout the day, but Kentarou couldn’t even find the start of the last match. Shigeru chuckled at his expression.

“Yep. They’re proud of us. _I’m_ so proud of us. We did good.” Shigeru offered his hand out to Kentarou again. Kentarou laced their fingers together.

_We did good_.

They still had a long way to go if they wanted to do well at the next stage, but for now, they’d done well. And they were going to fly _so_ high at Nationals.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Please go check out the rest of the Zine and show your support to the other contributors! (https://kyouhabazine.tumblr.com/zine2018)


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